


Family Dinner

by violue



Series: Novak Quadruplets [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Past Abuse, Past Castiel/Other(s), Past Dean/Other(s), Past Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:58:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6588586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violue/pseuds/violue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quality time with the Novak brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> ~~Unbeta'd~~ Beta'd by [Kris](http://kelisab.tumblr.com).
> 
> Thank you so much to [LYDIE](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whatabadchoice/pseuds/whatabadchoice) for your invaluable suggestion while I was writing.

Dean's sitting in front of the library, eating a sub sandwich. It's kind of chilly out, but Kevin burned his popcorn in the break room's microwave, so it smells gross in there right now. Dean would rather enjoy his roast beef sub _without_ the stench of burnt popcorn, thanks.

A man walks up, looking uncomfortable. Dean would like to think he knows who this is, but ever since Castiel shaved his face, Dean's been a little less confident in his ability to tell him apart from his brothers.

“Hey, Cas. You’re uh… you’re Cas, right?”

The Novak brother smiles, pulling back one sleeve of his black leather jacket to reveal an arm full of tattoos. “Hello, Dean.”

“I'm glad it's you,” Dean says, sighing with relief. “Now I don't have to feel weird about thinking you look hot today.”

“I won't be offended if you find my brothers attractive, Dean. We have the same face.”

“Well, I’d still feel weird about it. _You’re_ the one I like.”

“I assure you I don't mind, but I do appreciate the sentiment. And on that note,” Castiel looks uncomfortable again. “I am here to invite you to dinner.”

Holy shit, a date. They’re going to go on a date. “Oh, that's—”

“At my house.”

“Okay, sounds—”

“With my brothers.”

“Uh…”

“I realize that this is not an exciting… or even _appealing_ first date, but... they're insisting. I have made some... poor romantic choices in the past.”

“Like a lot?”

“Seven.”

“Damn.”

“It's... I'm in a better place in my life now, I make better choices.”

“So, I'm a good choice?”

“I think so. But, my brothers would rather get to know you and make sure you won't be... stealing from us. Or burning any of our property. Or, uh... hitting me.”

Dean drops his sub in surprise, frowning a little when it plops onto the ground. “Who the fuck _hit_ you?”

“Not relevant. A man hits me, he only does it once.”

“One of your brothers kicked his ass, I hope.”

“No,” Castiel says, looking oddly ashamed, “I did.”

“Damn.”

“I tried to tell my brothers that if you are in fact an abusive kleptomaniac arsonist, you are unlikely to reveal that during a dinner with my family, but… they remain insistent.”

“You guys are real close, huh?”

“I understand if you don't—”

“Hey, no. I'm in, okay? When is this dinner going down?”

  


•

  


  


Dean's nervous. Fuck, of _course_ he's fucking nervous. He's been through family grilling sessions before. They're never fun, and he actually lost a girlfriend in highschool because her dad hated him. Dean really likes Castiel... in that thinking about him all the time, butterflies in his stomach, doodling Ganesh tattoos on scrap paper during slow moments at the library kind of way, he doesn't want Castiel's brothers to hate him. At least Emmanuel already seems to like him. That's a good start.

Castiel lives in a nice two story house, miles from Dean's tiny apartment. The yard is well maintained even for this time of year, the windows are clean, there's even a _welcome mat._ It's a little strange to come across four single brothers sharing a lovely suburban home, but hey, Dean still lived with Sam until last year, and still would be living with him if Sam and Sarah hadn’t moved in together. Sam was ready to live with his girlfriend, so Dean moved... to the apartment across the hall. Alright, Dean is in no position to say a damn thing about the Novak living situation, is he.

Dean rings the doorbell, and Jimmy answers. Dean knows it's Jimmy because the guy is wearing a _name tag_ sticker on the pocket of his suit. Helpful, but embarrassing.

“Welcome,” Jimmy says, sounding pleased. “You're five minutes early, I'm glad to see punctuality is important to you.”

Dean feels like he's being graded. God, maybe he is. Maybe Jimmy has a little sheet with things like “punctuality”, “grooming”, and “table manners”, and Dean will receive a report card at the end of the evening.

“Unfortunately,” Jimmy continues, leading Dean inside, “we are less than punctual tonight. We’re running just a few minutes behind, but Cas will be done in the kitchen very soon.”

“Cas is making dinner? Cas cooks?”

Jimmy smiles. “Better than the rest of us, I’d say.” They’re in the living room, where Lucifer and Emmanuel are sitting on one of two plush, tan couches. Emmanuel is in one of his many adorable sweaters, and Lucifer’s nametag has a little drawing of a cartoon devil instead of his actual name, so they’re pretty easy to tell apart. “Have a seat,” Jimmy says, gesturing to an unoccupied easy chair.

Dean sits, feeling fidgety. They’re all dressed as they normally are; Jimmy in a suit, Lucifer in business casual, Emmanuel in a sweater and corduroys… and here Dean is in a black button up shirt and _slacks._ He should have come as himself. Jimmy’s probably going to mark Dean down for misrepresenting himself sartorially.

“Is it time to grill him?” Lucifer says excitedly.

“No one is going to _grill_ him,” Emmanuel says, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

“I thought that was the whole point of this,” Lucifer says.

“We’re _getting to know him,_ there’s a difference,” Jimmy chides.

“Okay, well I already know him. We _all_ already know him, Manny is at the library all the damn time.”

“Stop acting like you have somewhere better to be, Lucifer, we all know that you don’t,” Jimmy says. Wow, Jimmy’s a bit snarkier than Dean thought. Awesome.

“Hey,” Castiel says suddenly, startling the shit out of Dean. Where the fuck did he come from? “Dinner’s ready.”

“Thank _God,_ I’m starving,” Lucifer grumbles.

Dean stands, smiling when he sees Castiel. Castiel is wearing a pair of jeans with not a single hole in them, and a soft-looking light blue button up shirt. His face is clean-shaven, his hair is gelled and styled into submission, and his shoes look _new._ At least Dean isn’t the only one that got kind of gussied up for this.

“I didn’t know you _cooked,_ ” Dean says, following Castiel to the dining room.

Castiel ducks his head shyly, glancing back at Dean. “You wouldn’t want a meal cooked by the other three, trust me.”

“Hey, _some of us_ are perfectly fine cooks,” Emmanuel says as they sit at the polished oak table.

“You can chop a salad, but can you _cook_?” Lucifer says, rubbing his hands together when he gets a look at the spread on the table.

There’s baked ham, mashed potatoes, gravy, macaroni and cheese, salad, rolls, and a covered pie plate. _Damn._ Is this dinner with the family, or Thanksgiving?

“I was a bit overzealous,” Castiel says, fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt. Lucifer tries to take the seat next to Dean, and Emmanuel physically pulls him to another chair so Castiel can take the seat instead.

“It looks _amazing,_ Cas,” Dean says. He’s about to ask if they say Grace or anything, but Lucifer is already piling food onto his plate, so Dean follows his lead.

For a minute or two no one says much, they’re too busy groaning their way through Castiel’s amazing cooking.

Then, Jimmy speaks. “So, Dean. Do you have any hobbies?”

“I _knew_ we were grilling him,” Lucifer says, smirking. Dick.

“I, uh… I write short stories.” Dean’s already about to start sweating. Lucifer snorts, then yelps and glares at Castiel, who Dean’s assuming just kicked him under the table.

“Don’t mind him,” Jimmy says, “Lucifer has no artistic talents to speak of, he gets jealous of those that do.”

“I have talents,” Lucifer hisses.

“Getting away with embezzlement is not a talent,” Castiel snaps.

“Hey!” Lucifer barks, slapping his hand down on the table. “Can we not talk about that in front of the fucking newbie?”

Wow, this is even more uncomfortable than Dean was expecting. “I also knit,” he says.

Emmanuel brightens up. “Do you? I crochet!”

“Maybe Manny should date him instead,” Lucifer grumbles. There’s a thump, and the table jolts slightly. “Fucking ow, Cas!”

“That wasn’t Cas,” Jimmy says, glaring.

“Tell us about your family,” Emmanuel suggests, taking a long drink of sparkling cider.

“Uh, I uh… I’ve got parents… uh, they’re divorced. My dad lives in Minnesota with his wife Kate and my half brother Adam. Mom lives here in town with her wife Ellen… Ellen and my step-sister run The Roadhouse, uh… that’s where I met Cas and Lucifer. And I live across the hall from my brother Sam, he’s my best friend.” Dean says each thing feeling like he’s reading off of a script or something.

“There’s no need to be so nervous,” Castiel whispers, gently patting Dean’s back. It startles the shit out of Dean, and he knocks his glass over. Castiel lets out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle, and the Novak brothers all pass Dean their _cloth_ napkins. Castiel sets the napkins over the spill, sets Dean’s plate on top of the napkins, and refills Dean’s glass. This is going great.

“How many relationships have you had, Dean? How did they end?” Jimmy asks. Damn, Dean thought Jimmy was on his side.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Castiel says, glaring at his brother.

“Sure he does,” Lucifer says.

“Uhhh. I’ve had f-five relationships that I’d call real relationships. Cassie was my high school girlfriend, but her dad couldn’t stand me because in high school I was a chain smoking delinquent that lived in detention, so we broke up. Uh, I dated Benny for two years, but things kind of fizzled, and he met someone else… but we’re still good friends. Lisa was two years too, we broke up because she wanted to get married, and I wasn’t ready for that back then. Ann Marie broke up with me after five months to get back with her dickhead ex-boyfriend, and my last relationship ended last year. That was Gunner, we broke up because I’m pretty monogamous, and he… wasn’t. Kind of cheated on me a lot when he was on the road,” Dean finishes awkwardly.

“Hey, just like Cas and Meg, right?” Lucifer says cheerfully.

“No, Meg was the one that set his car on fire. You’re thinking of Hael,” Emmanuel says, shaking his head.

Jimmy sighs. “Hael is the one that tried to kidnap him. _Crowley_ is the one that cheated on him.”

“ _Ohhh, Crowley,_ ” Lucifer and Emmanuel say in unison.

Castiel looks like he’s two seconds from setting the table on fire. “Hael didn’t _try_ to kidnap me, she _did_ kidnap me. We were halfway to the Grand Canyon before I regained consciousness. Can we not talk about my horrible past relationships?”

“It’s only fair,” Lucifer says, “Dean shared his.”

“Because Jimmy _asked him_ ,” Castiel hisses.

“We could talk about Samandriel,” Emmanuel suggests.

“Oh, Samandriel! I liked him,” Jimmy says thoughtfully. “He was very nice.”

“Come on, Samandriel was eighteen years ago, is that the best you can do?” Lucifer says, smirking at Castiel.

Dean feels like he should say something, but nothing is coming to mind.

“Fine, you want to talk about horrible past relationships?” Castiel growls. “Azazel, Alastair, Abaddon, Ruby.”

What the fuck is with these names?

Lucifer slams his hands down on the table yet again. “What about Balthazar?”

Castiel rises to his feet. “What about _Lilith_?”

“What about _Bartholomew,_ Castiel?”

The table goes dead quiet. Jimmy and Emmanuel are staring at Lucifer in pure horror, and Castiel is eerily still, face a mask of pure rage. Lucifer’s jaw clicks shut.

“What. About. Bartholomew, Lucifer?” Castiel says slowly, voice ice cold.

“Okay, okay, that was one too far,” Lucifer says, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

“We’re leaving,” Castiel growls. He grabs Dean by the arm, tugging, tugging, then looking back despondently when Dean doesn’t move.

“Oh. Uh, okay nice chatting with you guys,” Dean says awkwardly, allowing Castiel to pull him to his feet and drag him out of the house.

  


•

  


They end up in the Impala, driving away from Castiel’s house. Dean has no idea where they’re going.

“You want me to aim the car in a particular direction?”

“Just keep driving,” Castiel grumbles, staring out the window. A few seconds pass, and then Castiel is groaning.

“What is it?”

“You didn’t get to try the _pie_ ,” Castiel says morosely. “It was apple, Emmanuel told me apple is your favorite.”

Dean grins. “You baked my favorite pie?”

“I was trying to make a good impression.”

“You already _made_ a good impression, that’s why I was there.”

“Yes, well I wanted to show that I was…” Castiel groans, putting his face in his hands.

“What,” Dean says, smirking, “ _boyfriend material_?”

“It sounds stupid when you say it like that.”

“You don’t have to be anyone other than you, just so you know,” Dean says, pulling over next to a park. It’s light enough out that Dean can see two teenagers smoking a damn bong on the swingset. Classy.

“I know, I just... wanted to present the best version of myself. And my brothers. And that didn’t happen.”

“No, no it didn’t. But guess what? I’m still here. I didn’t leave, or set your car on fire.”

Castiel lets out some weird, angry little squawk, but nods.

“I don’t know if you were listening,” Dean adds, “but I have baggage too.”

“You don’t strike me as someone that’s been to jail. Or been to rehab. Or been in a cult.” Castiel has mentioned bits of this before; a pill addiction eight years ago, an arrest for public intoxication, jail time for a physical altercation in the drunk tank… the cult part is new, though.

“Hey now, I’ve been to jail. Just… not as an adult,” Dean says.

“Fair enough.”

“Don’t worry about being _presentable_ with me, okay? I like you already. I like the guy that comes into the library and talks to me about honeybees and string theory and how many arms Durga has. You don’t have to make a big dinner or bake pies.”

“I _like_ making dinner and baking pies.”

“Oh. Okay well cool, I like eating dinner and eating pies.”

“Good,” Castiel says, smiling.

“So… are we good?”

“That depends,” Castiel says, reaching to put his hand on top of Dean’s. “Will you knit me something?”

“Hell yeah,” Dean says turning his palm upward and interlocking their fingers. “I’ll knit you a whole damn outfit if you want.”

“I might hold you to that,” Castiel says. Their fingers are rubbing together just barely, but right now it’s everything to Dean.

He smiles at Castiel, already thinking about how much yarn he’ll need to buy to knit an entire three-piece suit. “I’m game if you are.”

 


End file.
